Focus
by TimeForCookies
Summary: 1952 AU (if there is any history wrong please notify me!) Feliciano and Lovino Vargas are twin brothers, who were deemed insane since the young age of eleven. For ten years, they've been unhappily living in a mental hospital with a bunch of ACTUAL crazy people! What happens when Feliciano seems to take a liking for one of the TRULY insane ones? *sucky description yay*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N~! I apologize if any of the characters seem OOC or the story seems somewhat rushed. The couples in this fanfiction are a *SURPRISE*! So if you don't like any of that dumb junk, don't read this please~! ありがとう****~! (Thank you)**

* * *

Mama's eyes always had that certain twinkle and shine to them. They always shone a look of sheer joy and love. More so on that particular day, that particular moment. The moment she placed the cake down on the dining table in our little apartment, commanding Nonno Roma to turn off the lights, and Antonio to sing "Happy Birthday" with her.

Fratello looked happy, too, for once. He usually never looked happy so openly, especially not around Antonio. It was so weird how he was like that. He always acted mean to Antonio, calling him names and pushing him away, but there was always that curl in his hair, much like mine, trying to prove him as a liar. It was always sprouting into weird little hearts, as if it had a mind of its own. I figured that was the reason Antonio kept persisting on bothering fratello, always trying to give him little kisses on the cheek or giving him little wilted flowers he found in the park drenched in summer sun just to see the look of hatred on his face but the curls of protest on his head.

In fact, fratello was always like that. Always mean and distant from everyone. He just didn't like people, and some people thought that was strange. They thought I was weird, too, for being happy, and unintelligent. I always ended up losing focus in everything, always finding something more entertaining than the last.

We were also teased about how we liked to dress. Fratello liked bows, so always tied them to his belt loops. It may be a reason he hates everything even the slightest bit girly now. He put bows in his hair, drew doodles of bows in the margins of his papers, put bows everywhere. He said something about the way they bounced, but stayed together and flowed. I don't know. I can't focus well. As for me, I just flat out wore dresses. Ones with frills and pinks and oranges and dress shoes. I just thought it was so pretty. I still do. Everyone thought I was a girl. I didn't correct them. They could have thought anything they wanted about me. To be honest, I wouldn't mind being a girl. I would have less expected of me, and only have the job of taking care of kids. But the real problem was when people found out I was a boy. Lots of hurtful words.

So many people teased us about our faults. _So_ many people. I acted unfazed, needing to be to hold back and comfort fratello. He always either threw himself at them or in the opposite direction, trying so hard to hide his tears. He was never good at portraying his emotions, which made me pity him and keep trying to get closer to him and his heart. Thankfully, I was one of the few people he let do just that.

The eleven candles on the messily decorated cake gave it a cute and finished vibe, showing everyone just how hold we were turning. How young we were, yet so abused at such a young age. "Fairy" and "girl" and "gay". I remember not even knowing what that word meant.

How funny is it that I hadn't a clue what the word "gay" meant, yet was still offended when people called me? How funny is it that I turned out to be exactly what everyone told me I was? _How funny?_

Mama and Antonio were both fantastic singers. Antonio's voice kept cracking, for he was a three years older than us, at a staggering age of fourteen, and going through puberty. Beginning to get pimples and voice cracks and growth spurts. I'm still uncertain if fratello was happy about that or not.

Everything went by quickly. The blowing out of the few candles, the opening of the three presents, two of which were horribly wrapped, courtesy of Nonno and Antonio. It was late when Nonno announced he had to leave, for his flight was in only an hour. It was horrible he had only been able to come out here for a day. And the day wasn't even our real birthday. But that was okay. It was rare we actually got to see Nonno, for he lived in Rome.

After he had left, Mama told us to walk Antonio home. We lived in a fairly safe neighborhood, so she was not worried for our safety. Fratello and I agreed, Lovino a bit hesitantly on his part.

I remember what happened and the conversation perfectly. Too perfectly. Why couldn't I forget it? Why could I never lose focus of it? It wasn't very fair.

"So, Lovino, have you had a fun birthday party?" Antonio asked in his deepening voice, holding out his hand for Lovino to hold, but only got a reaction of a strong punch to the stomach.

"I would have had a nice one if YOU hadn't come, bastard!" Lovino said, walking a bit farther away from him, yet his hair began to take shape. I took notice, but chose not to say anything, for when I did that resulted in me getting hit to, "You suck and I hate you!"

"Ah, ah, ah, mi tomate. You cannot fool me with that adorable lock of hair of yours!" He said bouncily, bouncing the curl with the tip of his finger, resulting in yet another punch to the stomach. He made a sound of shock, rubbing his stomach and rushing to catch up with fratello that hadn't stopped walking. I didn't understand him when he spoke in Spanish, even though Spanish and Italian were somewhat similar. All I knew was that Antonio loved to call fratello "mi tomate".

"That's creepy! Don't call me that!" Fratello yelled, blushing quite a bit in the process. Antonio only chuckled.

A few moments of comfortable yet awkward silence passed by as we innocently walked to Antonio's house, only about a mile from ours. Even after a while, fratello was still blushing, his curl still in hearts. What a strange one he was.

"Hey, Toni. Hey, ladies," A deep, developed, and German voice sounded behind us. His threatening tone had earned a girlish yelp from me. We all turned around, Lovino's face and hair calming itself.

A tall, lanky, awkward teenager, not possibly more than a year older than Antonio, stood in front of us with platinum hair and horrifying crimson eyes. They may have been brown or something, only giving the illusion of the color red, but with his personality they might as well have been red.

Antonio balled his fists discreetly. It wasn't like him to react in this way. He was always so nice, well mannered, and calm. I had never seen him angrily tense up like that before.

"What do you want, Gilbert? Can't you see we're simply _walking_?" His voice was shaky, angry. Not even that. Furious. His voice was _furious_.

"Oh, nothing. Just wanted to say hello to my favorite girls. Is that too much to ask for?" Gilbert said in an anything but honest tone. Antonio clenched his fists more, giving his knuckles a white tint.

"Yes. It is," Antonio spat coldly. It was confusing both me and Lovino to see him act so strangely. The German's eyes wandered to me, having an all too scary look in his eye. He looked_ hungry_ of all things he could possibly be in this situation. My ever squinted eyes widened for one of the first times, my brows creasing. Lovino noticed and bunched his knuckles, too, though he made his more apparent.

Gilbert walked behind me, placing a small, young teen hand on my shoulder. I could feel myself shaking, feel my self cowering, trying to move from his grasp, though failing in managing to do anything that could move me from that place, "You know Toni, I never understood why you would hang out with such young, stupid little kids like these fairies..." Gilbert's other hand traveled to the bottom of my frilly dress, flicking it up just a bit, "But now I understand. They're just the cutest little things, aren't they?" he said deeper than before, in a tone I didn't recognize, when I'm glad I didn't recognize at the time. This was the breaking point for Lovino.

Fratello flung himself at Gilbert, knocking himself to the ground and straddling his ribs, slapping and punching wildly, not paying attention to where he was hitting. I was still in shock from what the Gilbert had done, and what he did that was so horrible, and Antonio from this situation. We couldn't do anything but cover our mouths, staring in horror at him and the bloody faced German man.

"My brother may not know what that means, but _I_ sure as hell do! You stay the hell away from my brother, you bastard!" Lovino lifted himself, kicking the yelling Gilbert in the groin before spitting on him for good measure, "I see that one more time and your head's going on a wall! Hear me?!"

Antonio chose this time to retrieve fratello, backing him up and turning him around to check if he was okay. He tried to wipe the small splatters of blood from his cheek, but ended up only smearing it. Antonio took a hold of fratello's hands, observing the blood on his palms, knuckles, and under his fingernails. His eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, God, Lovino..." He picked Lovino up, flinging him over his shoulders, no matter how loud and furious his screams of protest were, and looked over at Gilbert before motioning me to follow him to the nearest house's doorstep.

Everything happened so fast. The sirens of the police cars and ambulance trucks. The horrified screams Gilbert made when someone tried to lift him. The crying of both fratello and Antonio, something about possibly needing to take something away. I couldn't focus. All I could think about was what fratello meant about me not understanding what Gilbert meant by flicking up my dress. Being eleven and not having the "talk" was a rare thing, but then again, so was I.

It was around midnight when Mama was informed of our situation, and fratello, Antonio, and I had begun questioning. I still have no idea what their answers were.

They asked me simple things, like what I saw, what happened, and what provoked this. But then came the unexpected question. One I didn't think was necessary at the time.

"You two look similar. Are you related to Lovino Vargas in any sort of manner?"

Of course I said yes. I was unbelievably proud of my fraternal twin. I couldn't have asked for a better one. Couldn't they tell we were twins? But that was probably the biggest mistake of my life. Around one, they took fratello and I away to a hospital. A mental hospital. A mental hospital in 1952 wasn't very bad, but it was made out to be. Mental hospitals were inhabited by people who other people considered strange, which the police came to the conclusion fratello and I were. Me mostly because I was simply related to fratello. They told Mama they would come back for her once they dropped off us. Mama hung herself to spare herself from the mental hospital.

What a _lovely_ birthday present.

I stopped my reminiscing and got off of the couch of the main room, inhabited by only five other people and walked down the hallway of the hospital to fratello's room, knocking on and then opening the door, closing it behind me immediately after.

"Happy birthday, fratello!" I said happily, skipping over to his bed and sitting at the edge, ignoring my touchy-feely needs because he was holding a picture of Mama. He always did on our birthday.

"Idiota! I told you to stop calling me that!" He slapped me upside the head, earning an 'oomph' from me.

"Be grateful I was nice enough to wish you a pleasant anniversary of birth!" I said, wagging my finger. Though, it was hard to take me seriously with my habit of squinted eyes.

Lovino scoffed, "I'd rather have been eaten by you in the womb," his voice was rough, cold, yet I knew he didn't mean that. My face contorted in disgust.

"Fratello, that's so gross! How many times are you gonna say it until you realize it's nasty!" I relaxed my face, remembering the other thing I wanted to tell him, "Oh, yeah! Antonio's coming to the hospital today! Remember? He always comes to our birthdays! Maybe he'll even bring us some wine! We're twenty-one, now, fratello! We can drink!"

It was unlikely. I think the staff here would rather die than let any of the patients have any alcoholic beverages.

Lovino's face started getting pink, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the picture of the woman that left us with no one. What could he possibly think of for so long when he looked at Mama? I would lose interest after five minutes, let alone five hours. I can't focus.

"Not that tomato bastard," He groaned. He couldn't fool me!

"You liar, fratello! You love him!" I said bouncing around on the edge of the bed, "You love him! You love Antonio! You loooo-"

I was cut off by a strong push of his foot, being sent off the bed and onto the floor. I made a shocked sound, landing on my tailbone. I rubbed my head, though that wasn't a part of my body I'd hurt.

"Happy birthday. Now get out," He spat, embarrassment practically dripping from his words, "And I most certainly do not love that bastard."

"Suuuure you don't, fratello!" I said getting up to stride to the door, not allowing the pain in my butt be any negativity in the situation of teasing fratello, "You tell yourself whatever you want!"

With that, I left the room, walking back into the main room, just in time to see a tall, buff, bland man come through the doors at the front of the hall, being escorted by two equally ripped workers.

His blue eyes were glossed over, as if he was dead. His mouth was in a straight line, most of his platinum blond locks were slicked back, while a few locks strayed in his face, giving him one of those cliche mysterious looks. His hands were gloved, suit was green, and boots were... wet?

He was so different, so serious looking, so intimidating... and, _Dio_, was he _handsome_.

What a _lovely_ birthday present.

* * *

**A/N~! Aiieeee I always feel nervous when I post a fanfiction. I'm always afraid people are gonna kill me for it, 'cause it's so bad. People on the internet can be so scary! But, when you need an overused excuse to be stupid- #YOLO! (gosh I feel people are gonna kill me just for saying that.)**

**Just don't, like, bombard me with hate and I'll be chill. If it's that bad, just gimme a comment expressing your feelings and how I you feel about it and I'll arrange it to suit your needs. _And don't say I didn't warn you about possible OOC!_ I'm gonna be uber pissed if I see something about OOC or rushed storylines in the comments n**

**This is actually a bit smaller than I'd hoped... I'll try to do longer chapters in the future!**

**So, I dunno if this has been a storyline in this fandom or not (gosh I hope not!), so if it is, tell me and I'll take it down! Ye!**

**Uh, leave a review, favorite, follow, all that junk! I hope you liked it! I'll post more if this gets a positive reaction! Ye! :3**

**Ah, Ah! P.S. "Fratello" means "brother", "mi tomate" means "my tomato", "Dio" means "God"! {Though, those words are kinda obvious}**

**P.S.S. ****_YES_**** I know Gilbert and Antonio are friends! Their status will change! {So plz don't ride up my ass about it ye :3 }**


	2. Chapter 2

His gait was formal, and proud, and it seemed as if his dignity was fully intact, despite how he had just walked into a mental hospital. At that moment, there was absolutely nothing I wanted to know more than his name. Trying to be covert, I followed the man and two guards to a room, where the door was shut and they spent what seemed like ages in there.

The speaking behind the door was irritatingly muffled, and I hadn't been able to pick up a word of any of the conversations in there. I vaguely remembered when I was committed to the hospital, and the procedures I was forced to go through. Through the multiple locked doors, into a small room where I had checks of my health and allergies, talked to a psychiatrist for a while, and forced into a room with a bed. Yes, that was the procedure I had gone through, and it had taken multiple hours.

If I was determined, I would wait until the hours had passed. And I was. So I waited outside of the door, finding something interesting and then something even more interesting in the incredibly bland hospital. Sometimes I was more than grateful for my inability to pay attention to something too long and my near inability to be bored.

I had thought solely about the boy when I couldn't find any present intriguing thing to look at or think about. Yes, he seemed to be the most interesting thing my mind. How old was he? Well, he looked like he was in his mid twenties, but I had never been intelligent before, so guesses of mine were usually always incorrect. Besides, I hadn't been looking too much at the curves of his face to decipher how old he was. Rather, I looked at his face to register what color his face and hair was, then observed his bold muscles through his green military uniform, and how completely_ ripped_ he was. It was a bit out of the ordinary for me to like a person so much based on their appearance, but if you had seen him and how he just _radiated_ testosterone, you'd be interested, too.

He was probably the only person or thing I could focus on for over a few minutes. I stood there, leaning against the wall just thinking of his large frame, and how tall he could be. I had seen the two guards he was being escorted by before, and knew they were definitely over six feet. And he had a good few inches over them. I liked tall men.

I wondered what country he could have been from. He most certainly didn't look American. There was no possible way he could have been from the United States, what with his beautifully light golden locks, and clear, icy blue eyes, and buff figure. The Americans I knew were blond, sure, but it was more of a dirt or sand blond, or they had brown hair, and their eyes more of an ocean blue or a muddy brown. Only on rare occasions did I see someone in Texas without those features.

I had found myself in a light sleep when I heard the door to the room open. How long had it been since he walked in there? A few seconds? Minutes? Days? Yes, a few days seemed accurate. I removed myself from the wall, walking up to him as he now walked in what seemed to be the psychiatrist's office with only one of the staff next to him. Thankfully, the nurse hadn't seen me, and neither did the man. So I walked quietly behind them to the office, where the man entered and the nurse left, still not noticing my presence.

I happily played the waiting game again, knowing after the game was over I would be finding out the answers to all my questions about that blond man. Hopefully. With luck, I would've been able to not scare him off with my exuberance and hyperactivity. Maybe he liked people that talked a lot. Maybe he liked energetic people. Maybe he liked people like me. Hopefully.

I hadn't been dozing when he exited the room this time, for he stayed in there for much shorter than I imagined, and much shorter than I had when I came here. I looked at him as he was once again escorted by the nurse. When did she get here? Was I that deep in my thoughts about the man?

He was taken to the closest empty "bedroom", where the nurse led him in there and closed the door quickly, as if caging some sort of carnivorous and blood thirsty animal. On the chalkboard on the door, she wrote a complicated word that started with a capital "B". I remembered when I had come here, they put fratello and I in the same room, and they wrote "twins" on the chalkboard. So maybe the complicated word had to do with what he was like? But I had never seen that word before. Maybe it was some word I was taught in English class if I had ever paid attention in school. I can't focus. I couldn't help but feel that if English was my first language, I would've known what that word meant. That made me feel a bit stupid.

Once the nurse was definitely gone, I walked hesitantly to the door. I looked into the small window high up on the door on my tippy-toes. I wasn't very tall... He was sitting on the bed, his back hunched, elbows on his lower thighs, and face in his palms. My eyebrows creased together in pity. He looked so sad, so guilty, so unhappy. We couldn't have that, now could we?

I reached for the cold doorknob, twisting it slowly, making sure not to make too much noise. The door opened silently, getting no reaction from the man. Had he not noticed the door being opened? I stood there for a moment, waiting for some sort of acknowledgment from him, but got nothing. I walked forward quietly, standing in front of him, but he still didn't seem to notice me. Now this was just getting weird. How could he possibly not notice me when I was literally a foot away from him? I put my hand on his shoulder, opening my mouth to say something, but was cut off by the violent jump he did and the back up he did on the bed.

"Mein Gott!" He gripped the sheets tightly, large chest heaving and beautiful face covered in shock. What language was that? His face was beautifully sculpted, with a sharp jawline and strong cheekbones. His lips were a soft pink and slightly parted. They were thin, wonderfully shaped, and looked all too kissable. His eyes were even bluer up close, the color of a clear sky... How cheesy did that sound?

His face became angry. Uh oh. Damn me, and my need to talk to him. Well, really, it was all his fault. He couldn't _possibly_ think that with such an attractive face I wouldn't come up and talk to him.

"Why would you do that?!" He yelled in a thick, loud German accent. Well didn't that bring back memories... I guess I knew where he came from now. The same place as that pale, cocky albino-like boy. But his voice sounded so much more smooth and beautiful than Gilbert's, the way he pronounced his "w"s as "v"s and his "th" sounds as "z"s that much more attractive, "You scared the hell out of me!"

"S-spiacente! I- I mean- Sorry! You just looked so sad, and I just wanted to see if you were alright. I didn't know I would scare you so much!" I apologized shakily, nervously laughing after. He sure could be scary when he yelled...

His grip on the sheets loosened, and his breathing had evened. He observed me for a while, looking at me with an expression I couldn't, and still can't, place. I had been observing him as well. And, cribbio, was it hard not to drool over his muscular body and unbelievably gorgeous blue eyes. They were definitely his most appealing feature.

"I'm Feliciano! What's your name?" The amount of enthusiasm in my voice was a little more than I had intended to have. I hoped that wouldn't freak him out.

He looked me over carefully, this time a little more confused, "I'm Ludwig."

"Ah, what a nice name!" It was a manly sounding name to me, matching his extremely manly body. Dio, how attractive could one man be?! "It suits you!" I smiled widely, hoping to cheer him up a bit. I don't think it work. His puzzled expression hadn't changed.

"Thank you?" He said after a short while of awkward silence, sounding more confused than he looked.

"Would you like me to show you around, Ludwig?" I loved the sound of his name on my tongue, "I know you just got here and all, but it doesn't hurt to know your surroundings, sí?"

"I..." He looked me over once more, "I suppose..." He said, lurching forward to get off of the bed. Yes!

"Great!" I said, stepping out of his way so he could get off of the bed. Hopefully he would talk to me often after this, and hopefully would could become friends. I definitely wouldn't have minded becoming friends with him!

Once he was off of the bed, I had to look up a bit to see his face. He was definitely at least a whole half of a foot taller than me. He looked down at me with those ice blue eyes, but this time, instead of admiring them, I feared them, for they were so far away, so high up. He looked unbelievably threatening like this, towering over me and still, his muscles for the first time being horrifying rather than attractive. A squeak-like sound worked its way out of my throat. Oh, cavolo. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all...

He sighed, "I can't apologize for being tall."

His tone sounded weird, something I really can't describe. He sounded... disappointed? Hurt? Offended? Somewhere in that overall range.

"A-ah! No, I didn't- I mean- that was just-" I struggled to find words. I wanted to apologize, but at the time I didn't know what exactly to apologize for. I can't focus. And I especially couldn't around him, "Let's just walk around now, sí?"

A/N~ I dunno... I don't really like this chapter (and it's only the second chapter oh man aren't we in for a ride)... It's also kinda short... And Feli sounds like a 15 year old girl... Urgh idk you guys tell me whatcha think. Ye.

So the Ludwig thing gets a part in the story thing! It's all kinda blurgh. This chapter, that is. Gosh, I hope this story turns out okay, I'm afraid it's gonna be one of those stories where people look at it and just laugh at it and ugh this is all so scary I don't like it much gahhh ごめなさい!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N~ Aww, LazyMissPandaHat, you ruined the surprise! Are you forgetting this is Feli's point of view? Don't think I would write something relating to mental institutions in the mid nineteen hundreds without doing a bit of research~! (Which consists mostly of watching 'The Ward' and a few episodes of the second season of 'American Horror Story' but I hardly find that important) Don't think this is under the category 'Drama' for nothing, guys ~

"And, um, that one right there," I pointed in the direction of Ivan's door, which had just a giant "X" on the chalkboard. "That's Ivan's room. But you have to call him Russia. He doesn't like to be called Ivan."

"Why?"

I had to think over that question. Why did he like to be called Russia? I knew that was where he was from originally, but a lot of the people at the hospital were from different countries, and they didn't mind being called by their real names.

Suddenly, I remembered all of the times someone had called him "Ivan" instead of "Russia". It provoked this absolutely infuriated side of him, turning him into something close to inhuman. He would go ballistic whenever someone called him Ivan. If I remember correctly, that's how he came to the hospital. When he was younger, and when he was already used to the nickname Russia, someone had called him Ivan in the bathroom of a school or restaurant or something, and he had been so angry he grabbed a water pipe from a nearby sink and beat them to death. He never actually told me what he was doing in the bathroom. That honestly confused me a bit more than why he liked to be called Russia. Why a bathroom? Why a water pipe? It's strange to have chosen a water pipe over some of the things you can find in a bathroom. Or is it? How did he even get it? Did he use a wrench? Or was he really strong? Did I stray off topic? I think so. I don't know. I can't focus.

"I'm not sure." I said, turning back towards the front of the long corridor and continuing on. I pointed to the next door, which had 'Honda' on it. They needed to update that one, since it had recently gotten Heracles in it, too. "That's Heracles' and Kiku's room."

"People can share rooms here?"

"Well, yes," I replied, thinking of all of the different people who had shared rooms here. For a month or two, fratello and I had shared one. For the time Tino was here, he had stayed with Berwald. Whatever happened to Tino? One day two nurses had taken him into one of the more private rooms the patients aren't allowed in on their own, but he had never come out. Maybe he had left the hospital? And then there was Kiku and Heracles. Though I wasn't sure why they didn't put Heracles in one of the empty rooms. "But not often. I don't think voluntarily, either."

We walked for a bit more, me pointing to every door with writing on it and notifying him of whose room it was. Amelia, Alice, Berwald, Francis, and a few others.

"Oh, and this one here is fratello's room!" I said excitedly, opening the door, "Come on, Ludwig, meet hi-"

"Feliciano~!" A Spanish accent rang from about a dozen feet away. I jumped in surprise, letting out a _very manly_ yelp. I turned to my side to be greeted with a very tanned and happy face, littered with /barely/ visible freckles and a few hardly noticeable scars. Antonio refused to tell me what they were from.

A loud, excited gasp escaped my lips. "Toni!" I ran up to him, giving him a hug. Sure, it had only been two weeks or so since I'd seen him, but it was too long to go without him. "Yay! Now we can all talk to fratello together!"

Ludwig looked confused. I opened the door to fratello's room. He jumped in his spot, looking up quickly. His eyes had brightened at the sight of Antonio, but he made his face form into a scowl. After all of these years, he still tried to make it look like he hated the Spaniard.

"Dannazione! Non tu! Dio, perché mi odi?" Fratello wailed mockingly to the heavens. Antonio laughed, and I held in a chuckle. Ludwig did not seem amused. But fratello wasn't terribly fond of speaking English around Antonio, because I knew deep down fratello loved how Antonio spoke Italian.

"Oh, basta, Lovi. Dio non ti odia. Chi potrebbe mai odiare quel piccolo viso carino di tuo?" Antonio had learned Italian a long time ago, when fratello and I were still very bad at English. I laughed at his statement, for I couldn't keep it in anymore. The sight of my brother blushing and puffing up at something like that was just so funny. But Ludwig didn't think so. Though, he seemed too polite to ask what we were saying. That reminded me.

"Oh! Guys! This is Ludwig! He came to the hospital today! Say hi, Ludwig!" I smiled, looking at him. He looked embarrassed and shy all of a sudden, which seemed a little silly on such a large guy.

Ludwig cleared his throat. "Uh, hello. I am Ludwig. It is nice to meet you."

Lovino, in short, looked horrified. Probably at the fact that he was German. Like Gilbert. After all of these years, he still had not gotten over Gilbert. But to be completely honest, I hadn't either.

"Hmm... I feel like I've met you before..." Antonio chimed, placing his index finger on his slightly stubbly chin.

"Ja, you have. You're one of my older brother's friends."

Antonio snapped his fingers. "_That's_ it! You're Gilbert's younger brother!"

A train crash.

That's what it was.

Because Lovino exploded just like a crashing train would.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, _wait_ one _goddamn_ second!" Fratello stood up, walking over to us. "Antonio, you're friends with Gilbert? The German who landed me in my brother in this fucking looney-bin in the first place?!"

Ludwig seemed more confused than before. He did not give Antonio a chance to answer. "You know my brother?"

"Oh, I know your brother, alright!" Lovino growled. I started fearing for Ludwig's safety. Maybe bringing him to fratello wasn't the smartest idea I'd had. But then again. I'd never really had a smart idea. "I know exactly who your goddamn brother is! Gilbert fucking Beilschmidt, the person who went and ruined my fucking life!"

Someone had heard the screaming, because two nurses and one of the guards decided to come in at that moment. I recognized one of the nurses.

"Is something wrong?" Elizaveta asked, effectively calming fratello. "Oh, you're Ludwig, the new patient! Oh, I hate to tell you this, hon, but we ask you refrain from socializing the first day we get you here, the doctors may need to run some more tests or ask you some more questions." And with that, Ludwig was shooed out of the room without me being able to say goodbye. "And you, Mr. Carriedo, I've told you many times before, you cannot be back here! You must stay in the visitor's room!"

Elizaveta then lead Antonio out of the room, and the other nurse and the guard followed, leaving fratello and me alone. He looked at me, though I could not decipher his emotion.

"We should probably go out there and catch up with Antonio..." I broke the ice after what seemed like eternities of uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah." He started walking to the doorway. "Hey, Feliciano?"

"Yes, fratello?"

"Please stay away from Ludwig. He seems like one of those guys with something to hide. Plus he's that German prick's fucking brother. He's just going to remind you of bad memories."

"But, fratello..."

"But what?"

"He's hot..."

Lovino looked at me as if I'd grown another head. "You really do get weirder every time I talk to you, fratello."

What?

What was that?

What did he call me?

Fratello.

He called me fratello.

He left before I could give him a hug for it, though.

A/N~ ayyyeeee this probably sounds rushed. Urgh! I'm trying to make it sound slow and paced and normal, but this is probably going fast and wAGH! The reason I hadn't updated in a while was because I just couldn't figure out how to say it without making it rushed! Looks like THAT was a waste of two months. AND THE CHAPTER'S FRICKLE FRACKLING SHORT, TOO! Gosh, bless the followers of this story! It's going downhill!

PS guess who just learned how to write dialogue correctly

Also, note to the tragedy haters, I'm not sure if this story will end well or not. I haven't decided. I just want to be sure that you're aware this story _might possibly_ not have a happy ending. But I haven't decided, so it's nothing to worry about now~!

Translations ~

_Dannazione! Non tu! Dio, perché mi odi?_ = Damn! Not you! God, why do you hate me?  
_Oh, basta, Lovi. Dio non ti odia. Chi potrebbe mai odiare quel piccolo viso carino di tuo?_ = Oh, enough, Lovi. God does not hate you. Who could ever hate that cute little face of yours?

HEY.

HEY, YOU.

IF YOU SEE SOMETHING WRONG WITH TRANSLATIONS, HELP ME OUT.

GRAZIE.


End file.
